


Until It Passes

by GermanShepherd



Series: Im/Patience [2]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Healing, M/M, Nightmares, No Sex, Pining, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-05-16 20:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GermanShepherd/pseuds/GermanShepherd
Summary: Benji only says ‘I’m fine’ when he’s not fine.Ethan wants to let Benji know how he feels, but first, he has to wait for Benji be okay again, not just 'fine'. He can wait. Forever, if he has to. But he hopes he won't have to.





	1. "I'm Fine"

They’ve only been back at work for a week or two, and even though everything around them runs smoothly, just like it always does, Ethan and Benji haven’t quite gotten back to normal. Ethan is better at dealing with it than Benji is, of course: he’s used to waiting for himself to recover after especially hard missions (after trauma, that is, though he doesn’t usually use that word), but since Benji has never been strapped to a bomb before, Ethan is a little worried.

When he goes up to Benji’s floor and sees the tech sitting at his desk, eyes glazed over and hands motionless, Ethan knows he’s got to be more proactive. It might not be his job to keep an eye on Benji, but he’s probably the best at it. Besides, Ethan’s a friend. Regardless of any additional feelings he has for Benji, he’s, yes, a friend. A best friend, he’s pretty sure.

That’s several minutes now that Benji’s been zoned out in a bad way. That’s it, time to do something. He walks up to Benji, careful to approach him within his field of vision, and touches him gently on the shoulder.

“Benji?”

Benji turns his head slowly to look at Ethan, but his eyes are still glued to empty space. “Hmm?” he says, slowly coming to.

“Hey. Let’s get some lunch.”

Finally Benji looks up at Ethan. His face is pale. He blinks a few times. “That’s alright, I’ll work through. I can eat at my desk.”

“No, you can’t. Come on.” Ethan spins Benji’s chair so he’s facing away from the computer. “I know you’re not working anyway. Slacker.”

Benji scowls at Ethan indignantly, but grabs his jacket off the back of his chair.

“I hate doing paperwork,” Ethan says as they leave the building.

“Yeah, you prefer being shot at.”

“Yes, I do.”

Ethan makes a few more quips, some small talk, but Benji barely responds. Ethan leads them to a ramen place - not his favourite one, but the one closest to work - and they sit in a corner so they can see all the exits. Benji is barely present, however, and Ethan ends up ordering for him. He hopes the soup, warm and comforting as it is, will help Benji feel more human. They wait. The noise of the restaurant is a low background hum. Ethan looks at Benji across the table. _Hmm._

“How you doing, Benji?”

Benji blinks and flashes half a polite smile. “Yeah, fine.”

“What are you working on at the moment?”

“Some...database stuff.”

“Fun.”

“Yeah.”

Benji’s entire demeanour just seems _sad_. Flat. His mind is obviously occupied. Ethan’s not sure how to help him open up.

“How are you finding being back at work?” he asks.

“I dunno. It’s good having something to do every day, I guess.”

Their ramen comes, and Ethan cradles his bowl with both hands. “You seemed...distracted, earlier.”

“Yeah, bit hard to, um...focus.”

They slurp at their soup for a while. The ramen is rich, and warm, and safe, like a thick blanket. It takes the winter chill out of Ethan’s bones and he hopes it does the same for Benji.

“It usually takes me some time to get back into the swing of things after being in the field for a while,” Ethan says around a mouthful of noodles. “Sometimes it takes longer than usual.”

“Really?” Benji asks. There’s some colour back in his cheeks now.

“Yeah. I just...take it slow. Try to be nice to myself. You know. Things come back.”

Benji looks down, thinking. Ethan decides to take the chance to probe a little more.

“Does the counselor help?” he asks.

Benji makes a face, half of his features pinched to the side in an expression that says “ehh, not too sure”. Ethan wishes his own face was so expressive.

“I don’t want to overstep my boundaries here,” he goes on, “but you can talk to me, too, you know. If you need.”

Benji meets Ethan’s gaze, finally. He opens his mouth a little, then pauses. Ethan tries not to look at his lips. “Thanks,” Benji says finally. Ethan smiles softly at him and digs back into his soup.

  
~  


Ethan is in the glass room in the record store, watching Lane kill the intelligence agent, and then his eyesight fogs over with the gas. He’s gasping, choking, being pulled down to the ground, completely without strength.

When he wakes up, his arms are wrenched above his head, his body aches all over, and a metal pole juts into his back. He blinks over and over, but his eyes won’t seem to focus. The Bone Doctor appears in front of him, except it’s not Vinter, it’s Lane. He’s holding a sharp implement that Ethan can’t identify. He doesn’t need to, because in the next moment, the implement is jammed into his chest, piercing deep. The Bone Doctor sneers as he twists the tool around, forcing Ethan’s ribs apart. The agony empties his lungs of air. He tries to look down at himself, still blinking because his vision is blurred. The Bone Doctor is doing something horrifically painful, rummaging around in his torso, before picking up another pincer-like tool from the table. Ethan sees his ribs being cracked in multiple places, sees the bone sticking through the skin, sees the Doctor extracting slivers of ribs from his chest. He feels the blood run down his bare stomach. He doesn’t feel horrified. He feels...intrigued.

Then he wakes up for real. The feeling of his ribs being shattered lingers around his chest. He feels like crying, not because the nightmare was upsetting (which it was), but because it’s so _fucked up_ that he felt interested in his own mutilation instead of disgusted. That feeling will linger the rest of the day. He might have been asleep, but he hasn’t slept.

  
~

  
The next week, there’s a boring, _boring_ staff meeting with all available field agents - Ethan didn’t think that joining the IMF would entail mind-numbing meetings, but here he is - and they’re all being briefed on new European intelligence laws. Benji’s across the table. Jane, who has just gotten back from an officially undisclosed location (it was New Zealand; she sent them photos of Hobbiton), sits next to Ethan, her hair thrown into a messy bun, her head dipping every now and then with sleep.

Hunley mentions the Geneva Conventions for probably the third time when Benji bolts upright, toppling his chair, and everyone in the room turns to look at him. His face is sheet-white and Ethan can see tension in every inch of his body.

“Excuse me, Director,” he says before bolting out. Jane looks at Ethan, as if to say _is he alright?_

“Hunt, go check on Agent Dunn,” Hunley says. “I’ll send out a written summary of today’s meeting.”

Ethan feels the entire room breathe an annoyed sigh alongs the lines of ‘why are we having a meeting when we could just read the memo??’ before he shuts the door. He checks the bathrooms, one on each side of the floor, but they’re empty. The stairwell is the next best place to get some privacy, Ethan knows from personal experience.

Benji’s there, half a flight down, sitting on a step with his back to Ethan. Ethan says his name, softly, and sits down next to Benji.

“I’m just gonna sit here,” he says, “until it passes, okay?”

He doesn’t look over at Benji, but he can tell he’s having a panic attack. He knows the feelings of panic, of nausea, of feeling like you’re about to die, like your heart is beating so fast that it’s about to explode and kill you.

It’s painful to see Benji like this. He doesn’t deserve to be feeling this way. He doesn’t deserve to be suffering. If anyone should be suffering, it’s Ethan. But this isn’t something Ethan can take on for Benji. All he can do is be with him.

Ethan looks down at the stairs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Benji has his limbs curled up tightly with his head between his hands. It lasts a few minutes. Then it eases away, and Benji uncurls slowly. Still, Ethan says nothing. He doesn’t want to crowd Benji.

“Thanks,” Benji says after a while. His voice is strained and tired. “That’s never happened at work before.”

“It’s okay. It happens. This is why we have an in-house counselor.”

“Yeah, it’s not helping very much.”

“It’ll take time. You nearly - “ Ethan can’t bring himself to say it. “You had a life-changing experience. Some pretty insane things happen in this job, you might have noticed.”

“I dunno, working in retail was pretty wild.”

Ethan grins; he can’t help it. He looks at Benji. Benji’s eyes are red, on the verge of tears, but he’s wearing a brave smile. Ethan wants to take him in his arms and hold him. Instead he just puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

Ethan knows what ‘fine’ means when Benji says it, so he narrows his eyes in semi-mock suspicion. “Fine?” he says.

“Yeah. I’m okay for now.”

Ethan thinks about Solomon Lane, and the earpiece, and the timer counting down, and he clenches his jaw. But he squeezes Benji’s shoulder, and stands up.

“Ethan, wait.” Benji grabs Ethan’s arm. “What if they pull me from the field?”

“For what?”

“For...having panic attacks and just generally” - he huffs a sigh - “being a mess.”

“Trust me, you’re not the first agent to have a hard time readjusting.”

“What if I don’t readjust?”

Ethan sits back down. “Benji, you’re a good agent. Give it time.”

Benji’s mouth opens, and it’s clear there are words forming somewhere, but he can’t speak.

“Benji, what’s up?”

He meets Ethan’s gaze briefly, then looks away. “God, I feel stupid saying this to the Super Agent.” He rubs his eyes, hiding the tears forming there.

“You can say anything to me.”

“Yeah? Well. I just. I think I fucked up becoming a field agent. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t have what it takes. I mean, I really, really don’t have what it takes. I’m not one of you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.” He shakes his head and lets out a measured breath. “It was sort of a dream of mine, you know? To be out there with the best. To be out there with the fabled Ethan Hunt!” He tries to smile, but there’s too much pain in his face. “To _be_ one of the best. I can’t be. I know that now.” He takes a deep shuddering breath. “Maybe they _should_ pull me out of the field.”

Ethan’s angry now. Benji _is_ one of the best, god damn it, even if he is a bit green.

“Benji, I wish I could make you understand how valuable you are. You’re skilled, and thorough, and resourceful, and you’ve helped me out of a tight spot multiple times. If they pulled you out of the field, I would really miss you. I’d put up a fight about it, too.”

Benji looks at Ethan, and Ethan knows he doesn’t believe him.

“It’s true,” he insists.

“I don’t want to fuck up again.”

“You didn’t fuck up.”  
  
“I got kidnapped, didn’t I?”

“So did I.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

Benji shakes his head and looks at his shoes. “You don’t have to look after me, you know.”

“Is it helping?”

“Yeah,” he grumbles.

“Okay. Well. I’m just helping you out. You’re a friend.”

 _If only you knew_ , Ethan thinks, _how much I would do for you_.

“Hey,” he says, putting his hand on the back of Benji’s neck, perhaps unnecessarily. “Let’s go for drinks this weekend. We could use some fun.”

“Um...sure.”

“Okay if I invite the others?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Ethan grins. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weekly updates until it's done - think of this as a lead-up to MI: Fallout ;)


	2. Open

Ethan can barely wait until Friday comes, and when it does, he can barely focus on the pile of paperwork in front of him. He’ll be very thankful when they have another field mission for him, hopefully soon. Until then, going for drinks with Benji is what he’s most looking forward to. Five o’clock ticks by, and Jane and Brandt congregate, jackets on, around Ethan’s desk.

“Who we waitin’ on?” Will asks.

“Benji,” Ethan replies.

“I’m not letting him buy his own drinks,” Jane says.

“Agreed,” Will says.

Benji approaches them, his jacket sloppily pulled on over his sweater, and he looks tired but hopeful. “Ready?” he says.

Will takes them to an almost-speakeasy. It’s moody and comfy, decorated with vintage furniture. Ethan knew Brandt had good taste, but he didn’t guess that this would be his sort of thing. Jane gets a daring tequila cocktail; Ethan gets a scotch and soda; Will gets a gin and tonic; and Benji orders a fruit tingle, but Will busts in and buys it for him, and insists the bartender put a little umbrella in it.

They talk about recent goings-on. Jane’s totally secret mission to New Zealand. The awkward Tinder dates Brandt has been on. That one office cleaner who is super friendly to everyone. Finally the conversation devolves into everyone listening to Ethan telling them about jobs from 15-plus years ago. He’s had so many different teams, and come close to dying so many times, that it sounds more like a series of airport spy novels than it does real life.

Brandt leaves after he’s finished his drink. The three of them have a few more rounds. They head off for kebabs and eat them as they walk around a park. Jane says her goodbyes and catches a taxi. Ethan hasn’t bought Benji a drink yet, so they duck into a tiny little all-night bar and sit in a dark corner. He isn’t trying to get Benji drunk, but it turns out Benji can’t really hold his liquor. Ethan feels fine even though they’ve matched drinks one-for-one.

“So, Benji,” Ethan says, taking a swig of his beer, “how’s your love life?”

“I’m sorry, my what now?”

Ethan throws his head back and laughs, delighted with his ability to take Benji by surprise. “We’ve heard about Brandt’s Tinder adventures and Jane’s kiwi lover, what about you? Anything exciting going on?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I like to go to this leather bar on Fridays usually, they’ll be wondering where I am, actually, I should go…”

“Ooh, how fun.”

“Ha. No, nothing really. You?”

Ethan wonders how to phrase it. “There’s someone I like, but I don’t think they’ve taken any notice of me.”

“What? That’s impossible. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice you. Have I mentioned how glaringly white your teeth are when you smile? Can see ‘em a mile away. It’s a bit weird, really.”

“I brush them twice a day, just like the dentist says.”

“Hmm,” Benji says, and he drains his glass. “We should do this more often.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling...feeling good.”

Ethan can’t help but grin.

Benji nearly shouts. “See?” He points. “There it is, blindingly white teeth!”

“Sorry.”

“Shall we go for another round?”

Ethan eyeballs Benji. “Sure you can take it? I don’t want to fireman-carry you into your apartment.”

Benji waves him off. “Keep the good vibes going, yeah?”

“Alright. It’s on me.”

Benji either doesn’t notice or is too drunk to care that he hasn’t spent a penny tonight. Ethan’s glad. When he comes back to the table, Benji is leaning on his elbow with his eyes half-closed looking extremely relaxed and extremely cute.

“Thanks, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome.”

“For being nice to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

“I mean it. I’ve had a real shit time ever since we came back from...from London.” He sighs.

Ethan frowns and looks down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s just,” he begins, rubbing his eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about being grabbed right off the street, and not being able to do anything about it. I keep having these dreams.”

“About Lane?”

“Yeah. Being tied up. Being totally powerless.”

Ethan thinks about his own nightmares, about his ribs being taken out of him shard by shard. “I know.”

“And these bloody panic attacks. I just. I don’t feel safe.”

Ethan meets Benji’s eyes and there’s clarity there, a direct connection between the two of them. Ethan wants to say _you’re with me, you’re safe with me_ , but even that isn’t totally true.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. “It gets better. I know that doesn’t help, but just hang in there.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Benji takes a long drink.

“I deal with this stuff too. The nightmares. The panic attacks. Not sleeping. It was worse when I first started, and it’s a lot better now, but it still comes back sometimes. It’s not just you, Benji. You’re not alone.”

“Does it ever go away?”

“Not completely. But it’s not always there, either.”

“I dunno if I can wait that long.”

“Sure you can. I’ll be here, waiting right along with you the whole time.”

“Not sure what that means.”

Ethan takes a chance. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

Benji frowns, and gulps down the rest of his drink. He seems to have been hit suddenly by all the alcohol he’s imbibed. Ethan still feels fine. He decides to call a taxi to take Benji home.

 

He’s done this for girlfriends before, but for some reason it’s different with Benji. They manage to get the front door to Benji’s apartment open. Ethan navigates to the bedroom, pulls off Benji’s shoes, and bundles the man into bed, nice and snug under the covers. His face looks peaceful as he drops off to sleep, at rest, like Ethan hasn’t seen for weeks. He rests a hand on Benji’s blanketed shoulder and tiptoes silently out of the room.

He could go home, but it’s so late that it’s early, and he is quite tired. He wonders how embarrassing it would be for Benji if Ethan invited himself over for the night. If he leaves, though, Benji might wake up tomorrow, remember the night before, and feel embarrassed that Ethan delivered him home like a responsible parent, making things awkward between them. If Ethan stays, he can dispel that anxiety right away. Crashing on the couch would be the more friendly thing to do, right? Plus, Ethan can go out early and get coffee and hangover food if Benji needs it.

He’s thinking this through too much.

He finds a blanket and some cushions - granny-looking cushions - and makes a little nest on the couch. He sleeps. Deeply.

He’s running down a wide hall, his feet slamming the ground, his lungs bursting. At the very end, there’s a room, double doors thrown open. Lane stands there, a gun in his hand and that grotesque smirk on his face. He lifts the gun. Ethan sees what he’s aiming at. Right in front of the barrel is Ilsa, tied to a chair with a gag in her mouth. Lane pulls the trigger, and Ilsa’s head snaps back, blood blooming.

Ethan screams. He’s not getting any closer, as hard as he runs. Lane moves along, and now Ethan sees Luther, tied up the same way Ilsa was. Next to Luther is Brandt, and next to him is Benji. Ethan has to get to them.

He doesn’t. They die one by one. Lane turns, and shoots Ethan between the eyes.

 

“You’re here.”

It’s Benji’s voice. Ethan snaps into wakefulness and bolts upright. He sees Benji, and breathes a sigh of relief. He’s alive. They’re both alive.

“You alright?” Benji asks. There’s concern on his face. He’s wearing a bathrobe and holding a gigantic glass of water.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Benji asks, giving Ethan the same mock-suspicious eyes that Ethan gives Benji all the time. Ethan chuckles. So much for getting up early.

“Yeah. Had a nightmare.”

“I know what that’s like.” Benji gulps down the entire glass of water in one go. Ethan watches, impressed. “Jesus, I’m thirsty. Water?”

Ethan nods, and gets up to stretch out. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing on your couch.”

“No worries.” He hands Ethan a glass. “I’m a little embarrassed I dumped everything on you last night.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a good thing.”

Benji smiles a sad smile. “I know I can trust you, that’s why I talk to you.”

Ethan smiles back. He approaches Benji and leans on the counter next to him, their shoulders just touching. They rehydrate in silence.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” Benji says and starts to peel off his bathrobe. “Feel free to stay.”

“Wanna grab breakfast after?”

“Sure,” Benji shouts from the bedroom. Then shower sounds come from the bathroom.

Ethans begins to wander around. He’s been in Benji’s apartment before, but didn’t have a chance to have a good look at the bookshelves, the way he always likes to. There’s several volumes of music theory books, a history of European musical instruments, and the full conductor’s score of _Carmen_. Plus some beginner guitar books. Ethan grins, and is totally enchanted by the person who owns these.

Benji comes out a few minutes later, hair wet, skin flushed. “Ready?” he asks.

“I feel like I should freshen up or something,” Ethan says, running a hand through his hair.

“Only if you want. You look perfect, as usual.”

Ethan freezes. Was that just a friendly, snarky compliment, or was Benji flirting with him? “Okay then,” he says, and puts on his shoes.

 

Over breakfast (Benji gets eggs benedict; Ethan has a kale power bowl), Ethan asks if Benji’s seen the free exhibition that he’s seen advertised.

“Opera costumes, did you say?” Benji stares at him, mid-bacon-bite.

“Yeah, it’s on for another month or two at the state museum.”

“How did I not hear about this?”

Ethan shrugs, laughing. “I don’t know, you’re the opera guy.”

“I have to go. That’s my Saturday plans done.”

“You’re welcome.”

“D’you wanna come? Might as well keep this party going.”

“No, that’s okay, I have...stuff...that I should do.”

“Stuff. Yeah. Nah, you’re coming with me. Don’t worry, it won’t be fun. I’ll be talking your ear off the entire time about opera stuff. You’ll never want to hang out with me again after this.”

Ethan is fine with this, because it feels like a date, and that’s what he’s wanted for months.

They go. Ethan isn’t particularly interested in this stuff, but even he is amazed by the craftsmanship and artistic sense of the industry. He’s also impressed by Benji’s knowledge of this stuff: the operas that were only performed once or twice, the ones that ended badly, the ones that propelled certain singers into stardom, the long history that stretches back centuries. Benji talks his ear off, but Ethan loves it, and he’s learning as much about opera as he is about Benji. When they stand side by side in comfortable silence, looking at something beautiful, or when Ethan asks a question and Benji tells him everything he would want to know about the subject, Ethan wonders what it would be like to live like this. Relaxed, happy, every day at Benji's side.

They’re there nearly all day, that’s how big the museum is, and at the end of it, feet sore and totally exhausted, they go their separate ways.

Not for the first time, Ethan wishes he could read minds. He wants to test the waters with Benji and see if anything is reciprocated. He didn’t think there was, but they just spent so much time together, so Benji doesn’t _dislike_ Ethan at least, and then there was that “you look perfect” thing, which Ethan honestly can’t imagine any totally heterosexual man saying seriously to a friend. If he miscalculates this, then Ethan could be ruining a friendship that they both desperately need. He could also ruin his relationship with a coworker, and they do work very well as a team.

It doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that Benji learns how to cope and heal from the violence that has been done to him. Ethan is going to help, and he is going to be patient.


	3. Hezký Víkend

They don’t see much of each other over the next week or so, apart from dinner or lunch a few times. There’s been an influx of bureaucratic loose ends to tie up, and they don’t call Ethan in for several days, so he goes about his usual hurry-up-and-wait routine: wake at 6, quick jog, shower, breakfast at 6:45, catch up on news and internal memos, snack at 10:00, weight training for an hour or two, lunch a bit after 12:00, maybe some time at the range if he feels like it, and the rest of the day he tends to spend as he chooses - perhaps he’ll try out a new recipe, or read a book he’s heard good reviews about, or maybe he’ll go back into the gym to try and make sense of this agitated, apprehensive energy he has.

They give Ethan a mission - a small, one-man mission, doing retrieval of a file belonging to a Czech arms dealer - and he’s thankful he’s finally out of the IMF building for a few days. Sitting behind desks is not what he wanted to do as a career. Jet-setting to Prague is more like it.

It’s meant to be quick - in and out, retrieve the file, and leave without being detected - or rather, discovered, as he will be attending the semi-party/semi-business meeting as a potential client. He double-checks the earpiece, smooths out his tie, and steps out of the car. The party is in a penthouse apartment, the entire top floor of the building, and the file is somewhere in a safe room guarded by hired guns. Annoying, but not too difficult ( _and they call this the IMPOSSIBLE mission force,_ Ethan scoffs). The arms dealer, Beránek, makes a habit of always being on the move, and she tends not to keep any headquarters for very long, so her people are capable and very well-armed, but she doesn’t get the opportunity to make sure her property is airtight. All the better to steal from her.

Ethan ascends to the penthouse. The voice of the logistics tech in his ear is robotic, and the guy only speaks when necessary - not at all like Benji. This guy, Damien, might as well be an AI. A very professional one. (Benji’s still tied up at headquarters.) When Ethan enters the party, he sees that the guestlist is a who’s-who of European organised crime.

 _“Beránek is to your right”_ , Damien says.

Ethan locates her across the room. She’s standing against the wall next to a large window - fabulous view - wearing a men’s suit, her hair close-cropped and slicked back from her stony face. There are two - no, three - bodyguards surreptitiously keeping an eye out around her. He goes to the bar and asks for a drink. A quick glance around the room tells him that there are two adjacent rooms that might contain the file, one near Beránek and her bodyguards, and one at the opposite end to her, with one guard keeping watch.

“Any idea which room it’s in?” he asks his logistics tech, hiding his moving lips behind a glass of scotch.

 _“No_.”

If he could get a private audience with Beránek, that might shed some light on the matter, but he’s not sure how he would get his hands on the file without her knowing. Instead he decides to investigate the other room first, just in case it has what he’s looking for. Only one guard to distract. He files in and out of the guests, eavesdropping on their conversations, watching their body language. About ten feet away, there’s an amorous-looking couple talking with some other guests. The man has his arm wrapped tightly around the woman’s waist, and his suit is a size too small for him, with gaudy cufflinks and a loud tie. On looking closer, the woman’s smile seems strained, and even though her hand is resting on the man’s chest, her arm seems stiff. Her dress is stunning, and it fits her like a glove; there’s got to be someone around here who - there he is, a man on the other side of the room, whom Ethan recognises from his files - Viktor Wojciech, the Polish fixer. Viktor’s eyes are glued to her. He’s obviously interested in her, but there’s a hardness and anger in his eyes that says there’s something else going on between the three of them.

Here’s a situation Ethan can exploit. He finds a napkin, pulls a pen from his pocket, and scrawls on it in Polish. He wanders over to the bar and leans on it languidly, napkin in hand. From this spot, he can see both Viktor and the couple. The woman is getting antsy. She extracts herself from her boyfriend’s grasp and makes her way to the bar. She sees Ethan immediately, and he recognises the spark of interest in her expression.

 _Still got it,_ he says to himself. He runs a hand through his hair as she sidles up to him.

“You seem like you need better company,” he says in Polish, flashing her a grin. He knows her boyfriend is watching. She doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care.

“You’re right,” she says, and orders a glass of champagne. “Are you the one to give me that?”

Ethan shakes his head, looks down, then glances up at her seductively through his eyelashes. “I’m sorry. I’m spoken for. But I have a message from someone who would love the opportunity.”

“Oh?”

“Viktor wants to see you. Tonight.” He holds out the napkin in plain view. She pauses, then takes it, reads it, and folds it under the base of her champagne glass. Ethan looks up for a split second and sees that the boyfriend has seen the entire exchange. _Good_.

“Tell Viktor I will think about it,” she says, then locks eyes with Ethan. “If you change your mind, I will be here all night.”

Ethan watches her walk back to the boyfriend as he makes his way slowly towards the door with the guard.

“ _How do you know he won’t go after you instead of the other guy?”_ Damien asks in Ethan’s ear.

“It’s about a 60/40 chance that he won’t. He wants to see the napkin.”

Ethan is right. The boyfriend snatches the napkin from the woman’s hands, reads it, and storms off towards Viktor Wojciech. As soon as the first punch is thrown and bystanders gasp, Beránek’s guard is on alert. When the yelling and the rest of the punching starts, the guard leaves his post at the door. Ethan closes in and uses his picking device to open the lock.

He shuts the door behind him and surveys the room. Not much in here, so it’s probably not the room where the file is kept, but it’s worth looking. It’s dark, but it looks like a study that’s been converted into a storage room for Beránek’s visit to the city. There are stacks and stacks of books here, notebooks and manila folders and banker’s boxes. She distrusts digital technology, Ethan remembers, and she prefers to have hard copies of all her information, and to write everything down by hand.  
  
“It’s a brown folder, right?”  
  
_“Yes. A brown folder with a string closure.”_  
  
That could be anywhere. But Ethan doesn’t think she’d leave it in an empty, dark room, with just one guard at the door. Not this room, then. The one near Beránek.  
  
_“The guard is coming back.”_  
  
Ethan does one last survey of the room and hurries out the door, slipping effortlessly back into the crowd. The guard arrives back at his post a split second later.

Ethan slowly makes his way over to Beránek, watching the faces around him. She’s talking with someone, shaking their hand, and leading them into the other room. Several guards follow her. The door closes. Two guards stand outside.  
  
“Is she planning on selling the file?”

“ _It’s possible._ ”

“We can’t have that.”

“ _No._ ”

He decides that he misses the banter. This isn’t as fun without someone cracking jokes in his ear.

“Trip the fire alarm. With sprinklers, please.”

“ _This is a covert mission._ ”

“Fires happen.”

He doesn’t even hear an exasperated sigh before the fire alarm goes off and the sprinklers burst overhead. People scream, the way people in fancy dress always do when something exciting happens, and the guests scramble every which way as the security guards try to get a handle on the situation. The door to the side room opens, and Beránek comes out with two guards at her sides, followed by her visitor. Ethan manages to slip in, his hair dripping in his eyes, and dodges the fist that comes flying at his face. He counters with a low swipe, hitting a stomach, and continues with an uppercut. The guard drops to the ground unconscious.

This room is decked out with weapons and personal items - clearly where Beránek was spending most of her time. He doesn’t see a safe, or anywhere there could be a safe. For a second he wonders if he’s made a monumental mistake, if she had the file on her when she left - and then he’s tackled to the ground and feels like every inch of his body is being pressed into the hardwood. He gets to his feet, and turns around, and sees an absolute giant of a man, muscles on muscles, hands the size of dinner plates, with the top of a brown folder sticking out of his inside jacket pocket.

Ethan takes a second to imagine the look on Benji’s face when he tells him about this.

Then he grabs the tranquiliser pistol from his holster and fires it at the guy, twice, three times. He doesn’t slow down a bit. Ethan scrambles back and pulls the gun from his ankle holster. He fires rounds into his chest, legs, and misses when he aims at the guy’s head. Then he’s out of ammo, and he doesn’t have the time to stop and reload. The guy is advancing on him. He’s big, but he has the same weak points as everyone else. All Ethan has to do is get to them.

He springs out of the way as the giant strikes at him. He dodges, and keeps dodging. If he can avoid getting hit, he can tire him out, and take advantage later. But the giant’s reach is long, and Ethan needs to get the file before Beránek decides something’s wrong. He swings a kick at the guy’s knee and it lands square; Ethan feels the knee buckle. The giant falls down to one knee, but throws a punch into Ethan’s stomach and knocks the wind out of him. Ethan gasps for breath. The giant isn’t as stable as he was a minute ago, but he still rushes Ethan and tries to grab him around the middle. Ethan slips out of his grasp, just, and lands a one-two in the guy’s kidney. The giant groans and falls to his knees. Ethan takes the opportunity to kick him in the head.

He’s down.

Ethan peels the file out of his jacket and gets the hell out of there with the last of the drenched guests.

 

He’s supposed to lay low after the mission and stay inside his hotel room, just in case any of Beránek’s people see him and recognise him. He’s never been one for following rules, though, and he has a few hours before he has to rendezvous, so he decides to go to the Prague National Theatre and snap a few photos of the lush interior for Benji.

The Vltava river accompanies him on his walk, glistening and reflecting lights back up into the night sky. Ethan shivers, and pulls his coat tighter around his shoulders. The river is lonesome. He finds himself ruminating, about the cost of this job and the havoc it wreaks on the lives of everyone involved. It takes. It requires sacrifices. Ethan’s not sure if happiness is within his reach, ever, or if he’ll always be in this state of transience, always waiting for the next thing to go wrong and the next mission to push him to the brink. He suspects that he’s not meant to be happy. He’s just not one of those people. He had a taste of happiness, briefly, with Julia. Which makes it all the more cruel.

So, maybe whatever joy he can glean from life won’t last. But he’s stubborn. It’s then that he decides: if he asks Benji and Benji says that he’s doing better, honestly, then Ethan will try showing him how he feels. But if Benji isn’t well-and-truly on the up-and-up, Ethan will say nothing.

He arrives at the National Theatre just as a show is getting out and manoeuvres through the crowd with his phone camera out and ready to capture old architecture for his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ethan was getting a bit antsy, so we needed a little action. I'm not a huge fan of this chapter, feels boring, but I hope it's not too bad!
> 
> Hezký víkend means 'good weekend' in Czech, or, according to Duolingo, where I am currently learning it, "have a nice weekend".


	4. Red Light, Green Light

Ethan feels deeply refreshed when he comes back into the office. He even pays Benji a visit, ostensibly to gloat about being the first one back in the field, but really he wants to check up on the guy. There’s Benji at his desk, typing away happily, crouched over in the way that is absolutely terrible for his back.

“You should sit up straight, you know,” Ethan says, and Benji jumps.

“You’re back,” he says, spinning around on his chair. “How was it?”

“Fabulous. Like taking a vacation.”

“Yeah, sure.” He spins back around.

“How are things here?”

“Not too bad. Actually getting stuff done, you know.”

“Good. I’ll leave you to it.” He would love to pull Benji away from his desk, to chat and laugh and hang out - it wouldn’t be hard to distract him - but he knows how good it is that Benji is getting back into things, and he doesn’t want to take away from that.

For every day he spends in the field, there is at least one page of a report to fill out. It’s ridiculous. Ethan has considered, somewhat seriously, asking Hunley for a personal assistant. But he knows the paperwork is a disincentive to stop him from crashing cars and making too much of a scene. Not that that’s really stopped him before. It is a bit strange, revisiting every minute of his missions, but it gives him a chance to evaluate himself. Did he make the right choices? Did he consider all the possibilities? Did he make a fool of himself?

By the time he’s laboured through the last of the pages, most everyone has left for the night. His stomach turns grumpily and he remembers that he hasn’t eaten anything since morning, apart from drinking three or four mugs of green tea. There have been times in his life when he has gone hungry, usually for a long-term mission, but it’s not a state he particularly likes. Dinner is a must. But there’s also someone he would love to see right now. If he’s lucky he can combine the two. He packs up his workspace, makes his way up to the next level, and leans on Benji’s desk with both arms. Hopefully in a way that makes his arms look good. But he’s not thinking about it. Much.

“Hey.”

Benji looks up at him, then at the dusk through the windows, then at the clock on his computer. “Wow. Didn’t realise it was so late.”

“You’ve been in a flow state.”

Benji laughs, hard, perhaps a little bit at Ethan. “A flow state. Yeah, I suppose I have, Mr. Corporate Buzzword.”

Ethan shrugs. “I didn’t come up with the name.”

“I know,” he says, and tilts his head at Ethan coquettishly. “You just really fit in here.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Ethan’s stomach growls audibly. He can feel himself turning into Hungry Hulk. “Do you want to grab dinner, by any chance?”

Benji narrows his eyes. “Fine. But we’d better not go anywhere _weird_.”

“Weird? Like…?”

“Like the last place you took us. That goat-milk-milkshake hipster burger-stir-fry fusion place.”

“That place was great.”

“But my taste buds were _so_ confused.”

 

Ethan negotiates their choice of dinner venue away from a pseudo-Italian restaurant chain (“Hey,” Benji protests, “their breadsticks cannot be beaten!”) and towards a French Indochinese cuisine place (“It’ll be interesting,” Ethan promises). The restaurant is, for lack of a better word, romantic, which is only partially intentional on Ethan’s part. They start with some killer rice paper rolls and a glass of sparkling wine each. Benji has seemed cheerful today, so far. Ethan less so.

“How have _you_ been, Ethan?”

Ethan blinks. He’s a little taken aback. Isn’t he the one usually asking those sort of questions?

“I’m…” Apprehensive. Tired. Nervous. Expectant. Hopeful. Above all, hungry. “Fine.”

Benji rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. Stop that. ‘Fine’ doesn’t even mean anything, that’s why we say it. You’ve been a little gruff today. Did the mission go alright?”

Ethan leans back in his chair and smiles down at the table. He tells him about how Beránek is a technophobe, which is why he had to steal a literal file, and he tells him about the fire alarm and the sprinklers, and then he tells him about the giant man.

“Not a literal safe. A _human_ safe. The file was on the big guy.”

Benji laughs. “Yeah, that does sound like your sort of vacation.”

“Is there another kind?”

“And you made it out alright?”

Ethan nods. “All smooth after that. I actually had a little time afterwards, so I went to the National Theatre.”

Benji’s eyes light up. “Really? It’s a beautiful building.”

“I didn’t see a show or anything there, I just snuck in and took some photos of the inside. Figured you might be interested.”

“I am, that was really thoughtful of you.”

He slides his phone across the table and watches Benji’s genuine interest as he swipes back and forth across the screen. Ethan basks in the warmth of this moment. It lifts the corners of his mouth into an easy smile.

“Beautiful,” Benji says, handing Ethan’s phone back to him. “I’d love to go someday. _Not_ on a job. An _actual_ vacation. None of this fake-invitation-to-the-opera business.” He pauses. “Yeah, I’ve decided you owe me a trip.”

“To the opera?”

“Yeah. Turandot. Next season. Tickets are on you.”

“Okay. I accept.”

Their food comes, and it’s beautiful. They’re both so hungry that for the first five minutes they eat in silence, which is occasionally punctuated by happy groans and comments about how good the food is.

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” Benji says after they recover from their initial fervour.

“Told you it would be interesting.”

“Yeah, well, interesting doesn’t mean good.”

Ethan shrugs. “I can pick ‘em.”

Benji pauses for a moment, almost like he’s trying to summon his courage. “I want to get back in the field.”

“You feel ready?”

“Sort of. It’s more...I feel like I’m doing more good out there. I’m still just a tech guy, but...it’s a bit more hands-on.”

“You’ve had a taste.” Ethan leans in. He looks at Benji squarely. “Benji, I have to ask - how are you doing?”

Benji flicks a smile and looks at the table. “I’m better than I have been. I think I’ve...I’ve realised that this job is _super_ dangerous, and that I could die at any time, which sounds dark, I know, but it helps. And this job matters.” He pauses and thinks for a while, a distant look in his eyes. “Everything’s still lurking, like it’s waiting to come out and surprise me. But I think I’m okay enough to tackle it. And I haven’t had any panic attacks at work, lately, so.” He grins sheepishly. “Does that answer your question?”

Ethan smiles back. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, it’s just, you’re a friend, and - “

“And you always take care of your friends.”

“Something like that.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“So, here’s something I don’t understand - can you explain to me why there are so many Final Fantasy games? And why are they all unrelated?”

Benji wiggles in his seat, settling in, and folds his hands together. “Alright. So…”

 

They stay at the restaurant until it’s nearly empty. Then they stroll along the edge of a park, collars turned up against the cold, talking about places they would go for a holiday. This entire night has been a romantic date in everything but name. _This has to be obvious to Benji, right?_ Ethan’s thoughts are going in every direction and it’s all he can do to focus on the conversation at hand.

“Iceland. Pony rides.”

“Really?” Ethan asks, amused. “Pony rides?”

“Yeah, there’s this specific breed of pony that has its own unique gait - really smooth, really funny-looking, and you can ride them around the countryside.”

“I can’t imagine you on a pony.”

“Yeah, well, try harder, it’s gonna happen someday.”

“Personally, I’d go to the Galapagos if I wasn’t so worried about the tourism causing environmental damage. Otherwise, maybe Papua New Guinea. Try the Kokoda Track.”

“Oh, you and your exercising.”

Ethan shrugs and laughs, defenseless. “I’m sorry, I just - “

“Like to suffer.” Benji rolls his eyes. “Let’s sit; there’s a spot here I really like.” He leads Ethan a few paces before pointing at some artistic bench thing that’s barely recognisable as a bench. “Look at that. Isn’t it great?”

“What is it?”

“I dunno, but you can sit on it.”

Ethan is surprised as how comfortable it is, given the weird shapes. They both relax into it and lean back, looking up at the stars in the untouched, black sky.

This is such a date.

Benji sighs contentedly. “Now would be a great time for a smoke.”

“You smoke?”

“Nah, but I used to, back in high school, so I could be cool.” Benji draws out the word ‘cool’ with his lips in an ‘o’.

Ethan feigns confusion. “You mean you weren’t cool back then? A computer guy, like you?”

Benji rolls his eyes. “Laugh it up. I grew up to be a secret agent.”

Ethan laughs as he thinks about high school Benji. They fall back into silence, looking up at the clear sky, breathing in the bracing air. Ethan looks over at him. He thinks about how fast his heart beats for Benji, and how much he wants to hold Benji close and just feel his body next to his own. How he wants to show Benji how much he loves him.

This is a good time, Ethan decides.

“Benji?” he says.

Benji looks at him. His expression is completely relaxed and open.

Ethan leans over and kisses him, briefly, then leans back a little.

_Uh oh._

“Ethan, um.” His brow furrows. He blinks.

_Oh, no._

“I’m, uh...I don’t think...I’m sorry, but I, uh...I should go.” He avoids Ethan’s gaze, zips up his coat, and leaves.

_I really fucked that up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ethan nooo!!!


	5. Your Mission

The very next day they’re all called out on a mission, this time to Croatia.

“ _Your mission, should you choose to accept it,”_ the recording went, _“is twofold. First, you will infiltrate Beránek’s centre of operations and retrieve the hostage. Second, you will neutralise and capture Beránek herself.”_

It’s the kind of mission that will require teamwork and communication. Which Ethan is a little nervous about, given the events of the previous night.

The brief tells them that Beránek, angered by the theft of the blackmail materials ( _So that’s what the file was!_ ), has tried another tactic to get what she wants, and has kidnapped the son of an Eastern European government security official. Ethan guesses she’s after high-level influence to brush her crimes under the rug, but he doesn’t think this is the smart way to do it.

He’s been under an avalanche of emotions over the past twelve hours. He feels stupid for reading all the signs wrong, and regretful for making Benji uncomfortable, and lonely, and scared, and anxious. Then there’s the bone-deep sadness, because the one he loves doesn’t love him back. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to bridge this gap and repair whatever relationship they have left. He wants to apologise to Benji for overstepping his bounds, but when would there be a good time for that on this mission?

Ethan is double-checking his kit when he overhears conversation on the plane.

“...sure what's going on between you two” - that’s Brandt’s voice - “but you'd better figure it out because we have a job to do, okay?”

“We’re fine,” Benji says, dismissing him.

 _Oh god,_ Ethan thinks _, he used the word 'fine’._

The worst part is not knowing where they stand, because this silence between them is only going to continue for the foreseeable future. Possibly forever. They can keep working together, sure, but outside of work? He doesn’t know if Benji hates him, or never wants to see him again, or maybe, _hopefully_ he’s only a little weirded out and everything will be back to normal in a few weeks. But Ethan doubts it. Ethan is a professional, and he can keep almost anything out of his mind long enough to get a job done, but this is going to be a hard one.

He feels like he’s started dying on the inside.

_Focus._

Beránek is currently operating out of an abandoned industrial high rise building with a disused elevator shaft. She’s been recording ransom videos every two hours, which involves moving the hostage out of the tiny room they're keeping him in. Ethan will infiltrate through the elevator shaft, steal in when they've taken the hostage for the video, and wait until the hostage is brought back to break him out. It's on Brandt and Jane to catch Beránek, now that she has no political protection.

They've mapped the place out already, for the most part, although Beránek has installed heat insulation, so they can't pinpoint the guards using heat signatures. Ethan will have to scope it out for them with portable cameras. Nothing he hasn't done before. He runs through these details in his head. And again. And once more. One last time, as Benji looks at him and he avoids eye contact.

They get into position.

In through the unguarded entrance in the basement and up through the elevator shaft. Ethan uses a sensitive sonic detector on each floor to determine which level Beránek is on. The sixth. Out he goes, onto the sixth floor, hiding in a dark corner while the 360-degree rolling cameras get a visual of what's going on. Benji has to guide him to the room the hostage is kept in.

“ _Alright, Ethan, they’ve just taken him out of his cell. Wait a bit until they pass your position, then you can come out and go left_.”

Nice to be spoken to, even if it is through an earpiece, but Ethan has to remain silent to avoid being detected. He waits. The guards go by, with the hostage between then, hands and feet tied together, a thick hood over his head. As soon as they’re out of earshot, he sneaks past and follows Benji’s directions - left, down the hall, keep going, right, into that tiny closet they’ve converted into a cell. Even though it’s cramped, Ethan can still access the ceiling, so he crawls up into the scaffolding and out of sight. Now to wait.

Ethan hears Benji take a deep breath.

“ _Hey, Ethan. I’ve turned off the comms, so no one else can hear me. I know you can’t speak right now but I have some things to say to you. I’ve been more than friendly with you for a while, I’m realising. It just kind of happened. I’m really, really sorry if I’ve led you on.”_

Ethan’s stomach does a flip.

 _“It wasn’t intentional. I’m sorry I ran off the other night, that can’t’ve been pleasant. I was surprised. I didn’t know that you...you liked men. And, why me, of all people? It was just unexpected, that's all. I do like you as a person, and I don't want you to think I'm, like, repulsed by the idea of being with you romantically, because I'm not, it's not like that, it's just...I don't know what I'm feeling right now. And to be honest, I'm a bit scared by the idea of dating Super Agent Ethan Hunt, because if I mess that up, it's all downhill from there. Will is screaming in my ear so I'd better stop. I just...I need time, Ethan.”_ He sighs _. “Yeah, Will? Can you hear me now? Yeah, sorry, I must have hit a button. Four minutes to go, Ethan_.”

What did he just say? So Benji doesn’t hate Ethan, and he...doesn’t know what he’s feeling. That might not be so bad. They might even still be friends. Could Benji possibly…?

_Focus._

The minutes count down, the goons deliver the hostage back into his cell, and Ethan tranquilises the guards standing outside the door before he unties the government official’s son and sneaks him out through the elevator shaft.

He gets out cleanly, and hears Brandt and Jane’s scuffle over the comms. When he gets to the rendezvous point, hostage in safe hands, Brandt and Jane are there, rosy-cheeked and winded, with devilish looks on their faces.

“You got her?” Ethan asks.

“We got her,” they respond, grinning.

Ethan shies away from Benji’s gaze the whole way back home.

  


Three days pass without them speaking at all, just exchanging acknowledging glances every now and then.

A few days later, Ethan runs into Benji at the shooting range, and they say nothing.

A week after that, they’re at the gym at the same time. They don’t say anything then, either, and Ethan is extremely aware of the distance between them the entire time.

He doesn’t blame Benji for the silence. In the same situation, Ethan wouldn’t know what to say, and he’d be worried about hurting his friend’s feelings, or making things worse. But it does hurt, being kept on tenterhooks.

When did he get so invested in how Benji feels about him? Why couldn't he have kept it all to himself, and pined in silence forever, like he was prepared to do?

 _You took a shot at happiness_ , he reminds himself kindly. _Just let it pass_.

And so he hardens his heart enough to protect himself against total ruin. He’s ready to have his hopes crushed. He’s prepared to just be coworkers with Benji, nothing more. Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, not much happens, I just like making Ethan suffer. Sorry, buddy.


	6. Avowed

Ethan receives a text from Benji just as he’s about to leave work: ‘Can you meet me in the park in 20? I want to have a chat.’

'Of course, see you then’, Ethan replies, although he's already analysing the situation, trying to foresee the outcome. He shows up fifteen minutes early and tries to plan out the conversation in his head. What can he say to accept the rejection gracefully? ‘I understand, I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.’ That’s good. ‘I hope we can still be friends.’ Well, yeah. That’s kind of up to Benji, though, and he doesn’t want to pressure him into anything. ‘Don’t worry, we can still work together without it being awkward.’ He’s not sure about that. Can they?

Ethan spots Benji coming and jumps to his feet.

“Have you been here long?” Benji asks.

“Not at all,” he lies. He tries to smile, but the pained look on Benji's face tells him he’s failed.

“I know you’ve waited long enough to hear this, so I’m just gonna spit it out.” Benji takes a deep breath. “When I thought you'd drowned, after Ilsa pulled you out of that water, I had a moment of panic. I felt this deep loss, like the world had stopped turning. You looked dead, Ethan, you looked really...I thought you were dead. But then you were alive, and we went on this car chase, and I didn't think about it after that. A couple weeks ago, I'd thought we were just friends. And then when you kissed me, I thought back about that moment I saw you lying there and I know I would have...torn the world apart in grief, just because you were gone. Now I’ve realised that I've always felt really deeply about you, one way or another. You’re my friend. My _best_ friend. I love spending time with you. And you know me better than anyone.” He pauses, and takes a long look at Ethan. “So I guess it makes sense that I want to be close to you. As close as possible. I don't pretend to understand these feelings, I just know that I have them. What I’m trying to say is, I’m interested in you. So…” He clears his throat. “Can we try this?” He gestures between them. His hand is visibly shaking.

Ethan's heart is in his throat and he can barely speak. He nods instead, and he's sure the desperation is clear on his face, but Benji is here with him and his wildest dreams are coming true.

Benji grabs Ethan’s hand loosely and draws closer until they’re face-to-face. He looks into Ethan’s eyes, totally vulnerable and cautious, like he’s testing it out. “Does this feel right?” he asks, his voice soft.

Ethan nods.

Benji’s hand shifts a little, interlocking their fingers. His eyes flicker down to Ethan’s lips and back up to his eyes. Ethan is perfectly still, waiting, waiting, trying not to scare him off, but his heart is beating, beating, trying to get out of his chest and beat alongside Benji’s. Benji leans in, slowly and uncertainly. He pauses. His lips part. He’s scared, but Ethan waits. Benji leans in further, and presses a kiss against Ethan’s lips. A sweet wave of something like agony shivers down Ethan’s body. Benji leans away again, just as tentative, although much more at ease. He looks up curiously at Ethan’s hair, and his hand comes up to sweep the strands back into place. Ethan closes his eyes at the touch and sighs Benji’s name. Benji’s fingers roam timidly through Ethan’s hair, and when he opens his eyes again, he sees Benji looking at him, his face full of wonder and newfound awareness.

“Does this feel right?” Ethan whispers.

Benji nods. “Yes.”

Ethan cups Benji's face in his hands, slowly, looking at him with adoration. He doesn't want to scare Benji off, but _god_ , he needs this. He leans in, and kisses him softly. Benji kisses him back after a moment. Their lips part, and their tongues touch. After a tender minute they pause, gasping a little.

“Whoa,” Benji says.

“Whoa what?”

“I've just realised...never mind.”

“You can say anything to me. Really.”

Benji blushes. “I've just realised...how long I've wanted this. With you.”

Ethan can't help but pull Benji in close to him, cradling his head with one hand, his other arm encircling him protectively. Ethan's body is saying _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ but all he can say out loud is “You've found me”. Benji relaxes into the embrace. They stay like that for a minute, just basking in the closeness, before Benji leans back enough to study Ethan’s face.

“What?” Ethan asks, as Benji stares at him.

“I have to re-learn how to see you. Thinking of you in this way is like...seeing you for the first time.” He laughs. “I always knew you were hot, but, _my god_ , you are _so hot_.” He pauses. “I kind of don’t know what to do with it.”

“So...we’re okay?”

Benji’s smile fades and his face takes on that sad expression Ethan hates to see. “Yes, of course. I’m still...figuring myself out, but yes, I want this. I want you.” He blinks, and he looks like there are entire volumes of things he wants to say, but instead he pulls Ethan in for another hug.

“Ethan,” he murmurs. “Come stay over. Please.”

Ethan has no ‘expectations’, of course, but he’ll take every opportunity he gets to be with Benji.

They head to Benji’s, talking the whole way, and they get takeout and a little wine, and they just sit, for hours, laughing and hanging out. Any tension between them has well and truly dissipated by now.

The hours creep by. Eventually it’s so late - or early - that even Ethan, who is used to weird hours, has to announce that he needs sleep.

“Do you have any blankets?” he asks.

“Yeah. Why?” Benji looks at him in confusion.

“For the couch.”

Benji shakes his head slowly, then more vigorously. “No. Nope, you’re taking the bed.”

Ethan starts to protest, but is interrupted by Benji.

“With me.”

Ethan pauses, in utter disbelief at his luck. “Okay” is all he can say.

He follows Benji into the bedroom and catches the clothes that Benji throws at him. It’s an old band t-shirt and some comfy trackpants. Ethan smiles. He does like the idea of wearing Benji’s clothes.

“There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink if you want,” Benji adds. Ethan takes the opportunity to brush his teeth and change in the bathroom. When he gets back, Benji is sitting in bed, with a friendly smile on his face. Ethan’s heart nearly bursts with the love that suddenly washes over him. Benji throws the covers back on Ethan’s side of the bed, and Ethan climbs in.

They sit there awkwardly for a minute.

“Okay if I turn the light off, then?” Benji asks.

“Go ahead.”

They’re shrouded in cosy darkness and they both shuffle around briefly. Still, Ethan lies there, uncomfortable, and he decides to take another chance. He glances over - Benji is lying on his side facing the other direction, so Ethan moves over and settles himself against Benji’s body, fitting along the contours of his back and legs. Cautiously, he lays one arm around Benji’s middle. Benji touches his hand, granting permission, and hums contentedly.

They sleep.

Something wakes Ethan up in the middle of the night. Next to him, Benji is shaking and struggling for breath.

“You're alright,” he says, and offers his hand on Benji's arm. “I'm here.”

Benji breathes again, the shaking subsides, and he nestles into Ethan's shoulder, silent, and warm.

 

The morning sun streaming in through the curtains pulls Ethan gently into wakefulness, and it takes him a few seconds to remember where he is. He takes a deep breath and stretches out, coming to rest facing Benji, who is also blearily adjusting to the light. They grin at each other.

“This feels right,” Benji says. “I'm glad you're here.”

Ethan wants to reach out and touch him, maybe caress his face, but he stops himself. He’s still navigating what is allowed and what is wanted. He’s not sure Benji completely knows, either, which makes this hard. But Benji sees his indecision.

“You don't have to hold back,” he says. “Don't worry.”

So Ethan wriggles closer to Benji and they lace their bodies together. It feels so natural, or it would, if Ethan weren't worrying every second. This is the closest he's ever been to Benji and he's trying not to spontaneously combust.

“What is it?” Benji asks. He's picked up on the tension through every inch of Ethan's body.

“You're just…” Ethan looks at Benji's blonde eyelashes, and inviting blue eyes, and his obscenely sweet mouth, and feels the warmth of his wonderfully male body. “Really attractive,” he finishes.

Benji smiles. His arm is around Ethan's middle and he starts running his hand up and down Ethan's back, curious as he discovers new ground. Ethan closes his eyes and shudders a sigh.

“I like this,” Benji says. He presses a kiss to Ethan's mouth. Ethan responds, pressing back, and he feels a heat take over. He jerks away and rolls onto his back, but Benji has already felt what's going on.

“Is that because of me?” he asks.

Ethan swallows, nervous. He nods. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.” Benji's lips part ever so slightly and his face takes on a different look entirely. “Kiss me, Ethan.”

Ethan’s breath catches, but he does as he’s told, and leans over to run one hand over Benji’s jaw. He studies Benji’s face for a moment before he closes his eyes and lets his lips touch Benji’s. The two of them move together, deciding where to go and how deeply to taste one another. Benji’s hands move along Ethan’s back and into his hair. Ethan stifles the moan that nearly escapes him. They break for breath, looking into each other’s eyes without blinking. Benji pulls Ethan close again, and he’s even more inviting this time. He lets Ethan take control, which Ethan happily does, pressing his way past Benji’s lips to feel his soft mouth. Ethan gently bites Benji’s lower lip and Benji moans, making Ethan deliciously hard. He nuzzles against Benji’s beard and leaves kisses along his neck and into his hair.

As they lie there, Ethan with half his body covering Benji’s like a shield, Ethan can feel the heat emanating through them both. This isn’t the time, he knows, to go any further, as much as he’s fantasised about it.

( _At least I have ideas for if - when? - we do go there_ , he thinks contentedly.)

No, now is the time to be grateful that they’ve even reached this place, that they’re both alive, that they have each other. Ethan tightens his embrace around Benji, suddenly desperate to hold onto him. Benji responds in kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before the epilogue :) Thanks for being on this journey with me y'all, your comments have kept me going. 
> 
> (No sex in this fic, sorry...just couldn't get it to match the tone.)


	7. Epilogue

Ethan's nightmares begin to fade.

In their absence, he builds up a bank of happy memories.

There’s the lazy Sunday afternoon they spend sitting on the ground in gauzy patches of sunlight, going through Benji’s vinyl records. Ethan asks Benji to play one, but instead, Benji picks up his guitar and wends his way through a melody. Ethan lies on his back and closes his eyes. Benji starts to sing along, and the music washes over Ethan, who falls in love all over again. The sweetness of Benji's voice touches Ethan in his bones. This is one he’ll remember for the rest of his life.

 

There's the dog they run into at the park, a poofy little ball of a dog, who runs up and licks Benji’s face as he lying down reading his book. Benji shoots upright, shocked, and the dog jumps around him, looking up with hopeful eyes. Benji's not a dog person, but he's not _not_ a dog person, and Ethan suppresses a laugh as he watches the guy try to interact with this honest, playful animal. Its owner comes by and apologises for her (the dog's name is Flora, apparently). Benji is flustered.

“I haven't really spent time around dogs,” he explains. “She’s cute though, isn't she?”

Ethan grins. “You both are.”

 

There’s the night that they finally settle in to watch one of Ethan’s favourite movies. It’s been a long day, and they’ve been training hard to prepare for a very specific infiltration mission that involves some serious core strength. The movie starts, and Benji rests his head on Ethan’s lap. They get halfway through when Ethan realises that Benji has fallen asleep despite his insistence that he’ll “stay awake through the whole thing, you’ll see, I wouldn’t miss your favourite movie”. Ethan is a little uncomfortable, and one of his legs has gone numb, but he doesn’t move. Benji looks so relaxed and sweet. Ethan rolls his eyes at himself - he’s just had the thought that Benji looks like an angel when he sleeps, and as cliché as it is, it’s true. The movies plays out and Ethan doesn’t move until he really, _really_ has to pee.

 

And then there’s the time they’re lying side by side in bed, Benji reading one of his 1970’s knock-off James Bond novels and Ethan listening to a nature sounds album, sleepily watching Benji turn the crinkly pages of the cheap paperback. Ethan smiles and takes out his earbuds.

“Hey, Benji?”

He looks up from his book.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

Benji grins sheepishly. He closes the book and puts it on the bedside table. “I know,” he says, and wraps himself around Ethan, looking deep into his eyes. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but it only needed a liiiiittle wrapping up. I love these two so much. Thanks again y'all, I had a lot of fun writing this :)


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